


By-The-Sea III: Angel Baby

by BradyGirl_12



Series: By-The-Sea [3]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Wonder Woman (Comics)
Genre: 1960s, 1961, Beach Holidays, Beach House, Beaches, Canon Het Relationship, Challenge Response, Challenges, Community: BradyGirl_12 DCU Challenges, Community: Wonder Woman Love Challenges, Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Het, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Retro Weekend, Role-Playing Game, Roleplay, Romance, Series, Slice of Life, Sort-Of Silver Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5494784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1961 was a very good year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mr. & Mrs. O'Reilly

**Author's Note:**

> Original LJ Dates Of Completion: July 31, August 4, 7, 10, 14, 17, 20, 21, 2008  
> Original LJ Dates Of Posting: September 5, 9, 20, 24, October 4, 10, 13, 17, 21, 2008  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 944 + 1267 + 1541 + 909 + 2350 + 1960 + 1110 + 1034 +1001 (Total=12,150)  
> Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
> Author’s Notes: This fic was written when I was having a pretty bad time of things in RL, and it relaxed me to write this at a leisurely pace, simply enjoying this little world I’d constructed for Steve and Diana and just being _happy_ while I wrote it.  
>  A scene in [Chapter One: Mr. & Mrs. O'Reilly](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/278769.html) was inspired by the illustration, [With You](http://min-taiwan.livejournal.com/9206.html), by [Min_Taiwan](http://min_taiwan.livejournal.com).  
> This story is for the [2008 DCU Fic/Art Endless Summer Challenge](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/227152.htm) and the [2008 Wonder Woman Love Fic/Art Calendar Challenge (July)](http://community.livejournal.com/wonderwomanlove/29978.html). Prompt: Ocean.  
> This series is an umbrella title for various DC couples enjoying time by-the-sea.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana and Steve enjoy a day at the beach.

  
_"It’s just like heaven being here with you._  
_You’re like an angel too good to be true,_  
_But after all, I love you, I do,_  
_Angel Baby, my Angel Baby."_  


  


**Rosie & The Originals**  
**"Angel Baby"**  
**1961 C.E.**

The ocean sparkled on a perfect summer day, not too hot and not too humid.

_As Baby Bear would say, just right._

Steve smiled at using the old fairytale as touchstone, but when you were in love with an Amazon, what was a talking bear or two?

Wispy white clouds drifted across an azure sky, a contrail of smoke pluming high up in the air. He shaded his eyes as he watched the jet, his body responding to every movement made by the pilot.

A sailboat bobbed on the horizon, a soft breeze blowing over the beach, tickling his skin. The sun was warm and he was so comfortable, memories of yesterday beginning to drift through his mind as he became sleepy…

& & & & & &

_He held his Angel in his arms, her long dark hair trailing in the water. Gossamer-thin folds of her white dress clung to her body, outlining curvaceous breasts and thighs as she smiled at him._

_“Beloved.”_

_Steve smiled, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. “Yes, Angel?”_

_Her hand rested on his chest, cool against warm skin. Mischief sparkled in her eyes._

_“Your shirt outlines your body quite nicely.” Her eyes traveled lower. “Your shorts, too.”_

_Steve blushed as he smiled, ducking his head. Her frankness could still bring pink to his cheeks. Delighted laughter trilled from her throat._

_Diana put her arms around his neck. “Beautiful One, let me feast mine eyes upon thy body.”_

_Steve tightened his hold on her legs and back. “I should be saying that to you.”_

_“Mmm, Beloved, perhaps we should hold a mutual admiration society.”_

_Diana kissed him and Steve responded, the water swirling around his legs as the sunlight sparkled on the sea._

& & & & & &

“Steve.”

“Hmm?”

“I think I need help with my suntan lotion.”

Steve grinned as he sat up, eyes shielded by his sunglasses.

Diana sat on the next towel, cats-eye sunglasses glittering in the sun as she smiled charmingly at him. He scrambled to his feet and Diana turned on the small radio on the blanket.

_“…let’s do the Twist…”_

Steve squeezed out the lotion from the bottle, the smell of cocoa butter strong as he rubbed the lotion on Diana’s back. 

_“Well, that’s the latest from Chubby Checker. Now, here’s Elvis and ‘Blue Hawaii’…”_

“Mmm.” Diana arched her back. “You have a deft touch.”

“All the better to love you, my dear.”

Diana smiled, holding her hair from her back. 

_“JFK will be heading for Hyannisport to join the First Lady and children this weekend.”_

Steve felt happiness spread through him like lotion on skin. He looked at Diana’s simple one-piece black bathing suit in amusement.

She had wholeheartedly thrown herself into their retro weekend. Curious about the postwar period, particularly the New Frontier early ‘60s era, she was happily playing the game Steve had proposed.

He had gotten the idea when he’d seen the advertisement for a local radio station’s gimmick for a weekend set in 1961: all the music, ads, and news would be vintage New Frontier.

Steve had gone to a vintage clothing shop, and now he wore long, royal-blue swim trunks, and had found the old-fashioned swimsuit for Diana. He’d picked up some other clothes, too, and was enjoying the game. 

The cooler under their blue-and-yellow striped beach umbrellas was packed with turkey sandwiches, apples, push-up Popsicles, small bags of State Line potato chips, and bottles, not cans, of Coke.

When Steve had first heard the ad, he had missed the part about the gimmick being part of the little seaside town of Rosebeach’s bigger gimmick: enticing people to take part in a full-blown retro weekend. When he had realized the scope of the promotion, he had delightedly informed Diana.

“You’ll get a full immersion in postwar culture, Angel.”

Diana had enthusiastically agreed.

They had found this private beach, tipped off by Bruce Wayne, and were enjoying every minute of their ‘research’. Bruce had made phony I.D.’s for them, and Jack and Rose O’Reilly were just part of the tourist crowd, Steve figuring that his mother wouldn’t mind the use of her maiden name. 

Steve kissed Diana’s shoulder before rubbing lotion on it. “So, dinner in town tonight suit you, Mrs. O’Reilly?”

“Certainly, Mr. O’Reilly.” Diana watched a biplane buzz by, a banner proclaiming, _Eat At Joe’s Fish Shack_ trailing behind it.

“Remember, the well-dressed woman must always were a hat and gloves when leaving the house.”

“A quaint custom.”

“I have to wear a hat, too.” Steve capped the bottle. “Though it’s okay to go without one tonight. A straw hat wouldn’t go with my casual clothes, and a fedora’s too formal.”

“Must I wear those stiletto heels?”

Steve squeezed her arm. “You can wear flats, though the stilettos aren’t much different from your uniform boots.”

“They are more practical.”

Steve kissed the back of her neck. “You can dress more casually tomorrow afternoon when we wander around town. You can wear pedal pushers and tennis shoes, how’s that?” 

“And I can buy silly little souvenir trinkets?”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “Whatever you want, my love.”

Diana laughed and stretched out on her back on her beach towel. She reached up and pulled Steve down for a kiss.

Steve was happy that today was Friday, and the whole weekend was still stretched out before them to enjoy.


	2. Lobsters And Linguini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana and Steve enjoy a delicious dinner in town.

_“Good food and good company…a recipe for romance."_

  


**Helen Gurlini Brown**  
**"How To Catch A Man"**  
**1961 C.E.**

Steve was very impressed with his Angel.

Both had desired to be incognito this weekend, so he carried a pair of horn-rimmed glasses to wear when his sunglasses were off, and slicked his hair down. Diana had borrowed a blond wig from Dinah Lance, and had styled it as a woman of 1961 would wear it, parted on the side and with waves upswept over her shoulders.

She wore a full-skirted and belted sundress printed with large red cherries, matching lipstick bright on her lips, a wide-brimmed white hat with red trim perched on her head. Short white gloves, a white purse, and open-toed sandals with stiletto heels completed the ensemble, white straps around her ankles. Large, round, red earrings and a short, red-beaded necklace were smart accessories. She wore the cats-eye sunglasses, smiling at her lover.

Steve was dressed in light-blue chinos and shirt with a dark-blue sport jacket, feet in comfortable loafers. He kept his top button unfastened, and put his glasses case in his shirt pocket as he picked up his sunglasses off the dresser.

“You look beautiful, Angel.”

She twirled, her skirt fanning out.

“Just one more thing.” Steve reached into his pants pocket and brought out a small box, pulling the lid open. “Mom wanted you to wear this.”

Diana looked at the large oval red brooch framed in diamonds. 

“Steve, it’s…”

“…fake,” he smirked. “Costume jewelry, but perfect for that dress.”

Diana smiled as Steve pinned it to her shoulder strap. “Very thoughtful of your mother.”

“She’s delighted that it’s in style again.”

Diana kissed him. “Let us go.”

“Yes, dear.”

She whacked his shoulder with her purse as he laughed.

& & & & & &

The townsfolk and merchants were dressed in period fashion, and most of the tourists were playing along, too. The local vintage clothing store, _Hidden Treasures_ , was offering rentals as well as sales, with an option to buy at the end of the weekend for renters.

The streets of the small town were not overcrowded but were busy. Steve had to admit that the town had charm. It definitely had Cape Cod ambience, and reminded him of York Beach in Maine, the small shops a kitschy delight.

Diana absorbed everything, every sense alert. Long ago Steve had chalked it up to living on an island for untold years and seeing the same people and places. The Island was probably beautiful, though of course he couldn’t set foot on it, but new experiences were what Diana had needed.

He smiled and offered her his arm. She grinned and took it.

They took their time strolling, making note of shops they would like to visit tomorrow.

At the end of one street was _Marinetti’s_ , a combination Italian/seafood restaurant with a magnificent view of the ocean. The restaurant was busy, but they only had to wait fifteen minutes for a table. 

They were very comfortable, pleased at the good fortune in securing a window table. The restaurant was abuzz with conversation, the clink of silverware on china punctuating laughter and chatter. The perky waitress in her red-and-white uniform handed them menus and filled their water glasses, introducing herself as Cissy. The young woman headed to the next table, blond ponytail bouncing as she walked.

Diana opened the menu and began scanning it, then paused. “Ste…Jack?”

“Mmm?” Steve was trying to decide between Italian and seafood. Maybe go with both!

“Have you checked the prices?”

“Why, are they too high…whoa!” He met Diana’s eyes over the menu. “Looks like Retro Weekend includes the prices.” He looked around the restaurant. “No wonder this place is booming!”

“How can they afford to sell such foods as lobster so inexpensively?”

“Maybe the businesses pooled their resources. Let’s hope the other non-restaurant shops in town are following this promo.”

When Cissy returned to take their order, Steve asked, “Are these prices for the whole weekend?”

“Yes, they started at eleven o’clock today when we opened and will end at midnight on Sunday. We just ask that you don’t tip like 1961!” She giggled at her own joke, amusing her customers.

Steve decided to order both cuisines. Diana ordered baked stuffed lobster and linguini, Steve ordering the same. How could they pass up lobster at these prices? 

They enjoyed warm, crusty bread dipped in olive oil, Diana especially appreciative of the condiment.

“A subtle blend of flavors.”

“Italy is especially noteworthy for its olive oil.”

“Ah, but so is Greece.”

Steve’s eyes sparkled. “So true.”

Diana kept on her gloves, ostensibly to play the part of a well-dressed early ‘60s lady, but the gloves also concealed her bracelets. There was no question of removing them. Steve remembered when Diana’s Bracelets of Submission had been forcibly removed, and shuddered.

“Are you all right, my darling?”

“Hmm? Oh, fine, dear.”

Diana smiled. “I need you in good health, Jack.”

“Thank you, Rose.”

She covered her smile as she ate her bread.

She had chosen Rose as her name due to her love of the flower, and had inquired why Steve had selected his name.

“Jack’s a good, strong name, popular among pilots. It also honors the President of this era.”

Steve felt very comfortable with the name. He adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses.

_Funny how Superman has used glasses for years as his disguise and has been so good at it._

Sure, Clark did more than just wear a pair of glasses. There was posture, clothing, voice timbre…quite a few elements of the disguise. Steve held new appreciation for Clark’s acting skills.

_Though he’s not the only one to use glasses as a disguise._

“Why are you smirking, my love?”

“Oh, nothing, darling.”

Diana raised an eyebrow but smiled sweetly.

Cissy brought their salads and Steve observed the other customers. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the game. They were certainly enjoying the prices!

“Jack?”

“Yes, dear?” 

“Would it be possible to live on a military salary in 1961 without me getting a job?”

“Hmm, probably not, but if we had kids, we’d have to struggle. Most men wouldn’t take too kindly to their wives working with kids at home, but especially military men.”

“Mmm. So, if we decided a second job was necessary, I would have limited choices, correct?”

“Basically teacher, secretary, or nurse. Without education, waitress.”

“Or exotic dancer?”

Steve grinned. “You’d pack ‘em in, sweetheart.”

Diana’s sly look set his pulse racing.

The entrees arrived, Steve and Diana impressed by the presentation of the lobsters.

The taste was even better.

The sun began to set, a magnificent show of orange, yellow, and red streaks across a purpling sky. The ocean deepened to indigo, sunset fire gilding the waves.

After a satisfying meal, Diana and Steve leisurely walked through town, stopping at the bookstore.

Most of the magazines and newspapers were current, but a small section was devoted to special 1961 summer editions of _Newsweek, Harper’s, The Atlantic Monthly, Reader’s Digest, Life,_ and _The Saturday Evening Post_. Diana leafed through a copy of _Silver Screen_ with Marilyn Monroe on the cover.

“Would you like a current or vintage newspaper, darling?” Steve asked.

“Vintage.”

Steve paid for the copy of _The Boston Globe_ , adding _The Atlantic Monthly_ and another magazine, then Diana took his arm as they left the shop.

The town was quiet, the day’s energy dissipating to a languid attitude, the crash of the waves punctuating the sound of the occasional motorcycle or vintage hot rod passing by.

They walked the beach hand-in-hand. Both loved the beach, remembering childhoods spent by the water. They smiled, enjoying dusk without speaking a word.


	3. Abundant Fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana and Steve settle in for a comfortable couch potato evening after dinner.

  
_“When television is good, nothing—not the theater, not the magazines or newspapers—nothing is better._  
_But when television is bad, nothing is worse…I can assure you that you will observe a vast wasteland.”_  


  


**Newton D. Minow**  
**Chairman**  
**Federal Communications Commission**  
**1961 C.E.**

The splash of the waves countered the distant sounds of cars and motorcycles, cool water tickling their toes as Diana and Steve walked the beach, hands tightly clasped. Dusk was falling rapidly, the sky turning violet and shading to a deeper purple and indigo as stars began to twinkle. The lighthouse on the promontory winked its light, sailboats heading into the harbor.

They smiled at each other, content in the beauty of the early evening and with each other’s company. 

No words were spoken. 

None were necessary.

& & & & & &

Back at the cottage they changed into pajamas, Steve smirking, “Cotton jammies, Angel?”

She winked as she pulled on the bottom of her sleepwear. “Very comfortable.” 

“Good.” He buttoned his pajama top. “The local TV station is running a ’61 marathon. Or would you rather read?” He knew how tired Diana had been at the beginning of this little vacation, and she was looking tired again. Even Amazons needed down time.

“Television sounds fine.”

“We still have time to read.”

They settled on the couch, Steve taking _The Boston Globe_ and _Atlantic Monthly_ out of the paper bag. Diana took the magazine and the bag to set aside.

“There is something else in here…” She reached in and pulled out “… _Silver Screen_!”

Steve laughed. “Some light reading after you devour the Cold War strategy in Laos.”

Diana hugged him. “Thank you, my darling.”

Steve smiled as he opened the newspaper. 

He was transported to another world in this little cottage in a Cape Cod town by-the-sea. The blondwood paneling, comfortable furniture, and paintings of boats and the sea on the walls reminded him of his family’s cottage.

He read about Martin Luther King, Jr. praising the Freedom Riders and saber-rattling from Russian Premier Khruschev about Berlin, ominous as in August of ’61, the Berlin Wall had been built. Jackie Kennedy’s pillbox hats were all the rage, and her husband was planning to join her and the children in Hyannisport for the weekend.

Steve was amused by the shockingly-low prices of everything: suits, dresses, TVs, cars. A skirt cost $5.00, a car anywhere from $1,769 (Volkswagen Beetle) to $2,368 (Ford Mustang 2-door hardtop). Restaurants advertised meals for less than a dollar, the more expensive establishments nudging the prices toward $5.00 for prime rib and steak and lobster.

Diana devoured _The Atlantic Monthly_ , pleasure at the intellectual stimulation on her face. 

A short while later she set aside the magazine and picked up _Silver Screen_ , grinning at Steve.

Steve folded up the national section of the paper and opened the local section.

“Hmm, Marilyn was seen on the town with Rock Hudson.” Diana studied a glossy photograph of the famous actors.

“Guess she had a quiet night.”

Diana laughed. “I’m sure she appreciated the lack of groping.”

“Never a problem for you, my love.”

“Quite so.”

Considering that if anyone tried, they could be flung across the room.

They read in companionable silence, then Steve turned on the television.

“They’re carrying programming from ’61 for the next three nights. Ads, too.”

“They really have gone quite detailed on this weekend.”

“Very. Hmm, looks like classic episodes of _The Andy Griffith Show_ and _The Dick Van Dyke Show_ to start, then followed by _Bonanza_ and _The Twilight Zone_.”

Diana shook her head. “It still amazes me, my darling, that so much of your culture is contained in the electronic media. When I grew up on Paradise Island, we read books and painted and sculpted. We had no films or television, just plays.”

Steve smiled. “Some would say that’s a good thing.”

“Yes, I am aware of the ‘vast wasteland’, as Newton D. Minow termed it, in this retroactive year, in fact, but truly I have seen some outstanding works.”

“That’s true.” Steve slipped the paper in the magazine rack next to the couch. “I can say with pride that my culture has come up with some cinematic gems.” On the TV screen, three cartoon apples dangling from a branch sang about Mott’s Apple Juice. “Angel?”

“Yes, Beloved?”

“This…” Steve waved his hand around at the cottage “…isn’t too tame for you? I mean, staying in, reading magazines and watching television, even though if you want to learn about postwar culture, TV is the way to go…” Blue eyes looked at her worriedly. “You aren’t bored? You lead such an exciting life, maybe this weekend…”

Diana put two fingers on his lips. “…is exactly what I need.” Her eyes shone with love. “My darling, I was weary, ‘worn out’, as you say. This weekend is one of peace while I learn more about your culture’s history in a charming way.” Her hand caressed the side of his face. “I am never bored with you, Beloved. Simply being with you is pure joy for me.” She smiled delightedly at his blush and shy duck of his head. “You give me peace, a serenity I feared that I would never find in Man’s World.”

Steve looked at her, a question still in his eyes.

“Ah, my darling. Fear not that serenity does not mean…stimulation…of a different sort. I can tell you truly that I feel the Fires of Eros in the bedchamber.”

Steve blushed again but covered her hand with his and smiled. “I feel joy with you, too, Angel.” He kissed her gently, and when they parted, Steve put his arm around her and Diana rested her head on his shoulder.

They enjoyed the first program, Diana commenting, “This Mayberry…a charming town, but a collecton of…”

“….oddballs?”

Diana grinned. “Verily.”

During the next show, Diana asked, “Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do Rob and Laura sleep in separate beds? Are they not married?”

Steve chuckled. “Yes, they are. It was the standard in those days in TV and the movies.”

“But why?”

Steve smirked. “They didn’t want the suggestion of sex to be so blatant.”

Astonished, Diana said, “How silly!”

“True. You must remember, dear, that American culture is heavily influenced by the Puritans of the Colonial era. Sex was not to be acknowledged publicly in any way, shape, or form.”

“But sex…”

They both watched the curvaceous model drape herself over a gleaming, brand-new Chevy with prominent fins.

“…is used to sell everything from cars to toothpaste.” Steve smiled ruefully. “Afraid we’re very schizophrenic, darling.” 

“I think this society could benefit from Amazon openness.”

“I think you’re right.”

Diana looked very determined, then yawned and put her head back on Steve’s shoulder as **The Dick Van Dyke Show** began. 

Several minutes later: “Walnuts? Danny Thomas? The Twilo Zone?”

Steve laughed. “It’s a classic. They’re spoofing _The Twilight Zone_. Danny Thomas is one of the show’s producers. Pretty good inside joke.”

After _The Dick Van Dyke Show_ finished, a familiar theme song played and a few minutes later Diana asked, “The Ponderosa is the size of _Rhode Island?!_ ”

Steve laughed again. “Takes three days to ride across the whole ranch.”

Diana watched quietly, then asked, “Adam reminds me of Bruce: serious, intelligent, a good planner and well-read. Blunt and confident.” She slipped her hand into Steve’s. “Hoss reminds me of Clark: an incredibly strong man with a heart as big as he is, with a sweetness and gentleness everyone loves.”

“Who does Little Joe match up with?”

Diana observed the youngest Cartwright for a minute. “Dick. Not the lightning temper. Dick can express anger, but he prefers persuasion of a sunny nature. Dick shares Little Joe’s energy and enthusiasm and charm.” 

“So, am I anywhere in the cast?”

“Not as a single character. You, my darling, have Adam’s intelligence, Hoss’s heart, and Little Joe’s energetic charm.”

“Flatterer.”

Diana grinned.

When the commercial came on ( _“Let Hertz put you in the driver’s seat”_ as a man floated down from the sky into a car), Steve said. “I’m hungry. Would you like a snack, Angel?”

“Yes.”

Steve came back from the kitchen with a plate of honeydew melon, a bowl of cashews, and two glasses of ginger ale with lemon slices.

Diana was fascinated by _The Twilight Zone_ that aired next. As the tale of beauty and ugliness spun out, Diana watched with rapt attention. Her eyes widened at the ending.

“Truly, wisdom of the Gods.”

“Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.”

By the time the second episode was over, Diana was ready for bed. She brushed her teeth and curled up in the big, comfortable bed.

When Steve emerged from the bathroom, she cooed, “Are we like Rob and Laura Petrie, darling? Our pajamas match.”

Steve smirked. “How early ‘60s.” He climbed into bed, pulling up the sheet and kissing Diana on the forehead. “Sleep well, my love.”

They spooned, Steve’s arms around Diana, and settled down. 

A few minutes later she murmured. “It is abundant fields.”

“What?”

“Television. It is not a ‘vast wasteland’. It is more like ‘abundant fields’.”

Steve smiled, kissing her shoulder, and they fell asleep to the sound of the sea.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

* I agree with Diana. Certainly TV in 1961 could have poor quality airing, but that could be true of any era! And the programs I chose to showcase are favorites of mine and were not junk, IMO. ;)

** Oh, and the _It May Look Like A Walnut!_ episode of _The Dick Van Dyke Show_ is my favorite. ;)


	4. "You Always Know What I Need"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana soaks up the sun and the peace she so desperately needs.

  
_Early morning sunlight_   
_Caresses bare skin_   
_As the clang-clang_   
_Of the buoy_   
_And cry of the gull_   
_Mingles with the crash_   
_Of the sea._   


  


**Jeannette Silvergold**   
**"Lobster Tales**   
**And Other Poems"**   
**1961 C.E.**

Diana awoke, early morning sunlight brightening the world outside the bedroom behind the muslin curtains. She was soothed by the sound of the sea, so like home.

Strong arms encircled her, the warm body curled around hers just as soothing as the ocean.

A small smile crossed her face, her hand resting on Steve’s.

She felt well-rested, a peaceful night and the leisurely weekend helping her lose her weariness. She had been so busy with her work as Diana Prince and Wonder Woman that she had begun to feel frazzled.

That was when Steve had come to her, suggesting this weekend.

_He always knows what I need._

She luxuriated in the moment, listening to the waves and the piercing cries of seagulls, then slipped out of bed, tying a robe around her. She smiled down at her sleeping lover, who always looked so golden in the morning sun. Tiny beams of light were spilling through a slit in the curtains, and she caught her breath at the way his hair glowed. She gently touched the soft waves, smiling fondly. 

Out in the kitchen she started the coffee by the window over the sink, watching a lobster boat chug its way to a buoy, hauling up a trap.

Diana started cooking bacon, cracking two eggs into the second skillet. When she had lived in Paradise, her meals had been brought to her as befit a Princess, but she had begun learning how to cook, barely past the first lessons when Steve had crashed off the Island, changing her life forever.

In Man’s World she had tasted new foods (pizza!) but eating out every day would eventually grow boring, not to mention expensive. Her problem was easily solved: Cecilia and Jim Trevor had taught her to cook, and her skill was constantly improving with Steve’s help.

A fishing boat motored past the lobster boat, the sunlight dazzling on the water.

It amused her that despite having the best teachers (Alfred and Martha), Bruce had never learned to cook. For all his brilliance, he had never mastered the art.

In Diana’s opinion, that was a good thing.

Bruce was an expert at nearly everything. It was good that he failed at something. 

_Keeps him humble._

“Mmm, Angel, smells heavenly.”

Diana smiled. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Arms slipped around her waist, warm lips on the back of her neck.

“Looks like we’re up with the fishermen.”

“You wanted an early start, correct?”

“Correct.”

She smiled.

Steve rested his chin on her shoulder. “We can spend all morning at the beach, then come back here and shower and then go into town and look around.”

“A good plan.”

Steve kissed her shoulder and then released her, setting the table, then cut up a fresh honeydew melon, setting the bowl on the table.

Diana put sunny-side-up eggs and bacon on the plates and Steve poured two glasses of cranberry juice.

Diana felt extremely happy as they ate, proud of her cooking and pleased at the taste of it. They spoke of trivial things, a level of comfort that glowed within Diana. Relaxed, she accepted Steve’s offer of clean-up and went to shower, afterward pulling on her one-piece bathing suit and packing the cooler with bottles of Coke and cups of Hoodsie ice cream.

When Steve was ready they walked to the beach, Diana carrying the cooler, her beach towel and chair, Steve the umbrella, his towel and chair. Diana also carried a cloth bag filled with suntan lotion, apples, and the newspaper Steve had bought last night.

Diana wondered with amusement what her mother would think of her daughter wearing the antique bathing suit, flip-flops, sunglasses, a terrycloth beach robe and a large, floppy straw hat with a giant blue plastic flower stuck in the hatband.

Diana was completely a woman of the New Frontier, and she was incredibly happy.

& & & & & &

Diana sat down on her blanket with a happy sigh. Sparkling from the sea, she watched as Steve rode a wave. Their games in the ocean had stimulated and delighted her, and she slipped on her glasses against the bright sun.

This private beach was perfect. She didn’t have to worry about concealing her bracelets here.

If they were discovered, they could survive it, but Diana preferred to be incognito this weekend. She didn’t want to be Wonder Woman, just Diana, or, perhaps, Rose O’Reilly.

She opened the cooler and took out a strawberry-and-vanilla Hoodsie cup.

Steve emerged from the sea, Diana catching her breath at his beauty. Diamond-sparkling, he smiled as he approached the blanket. 

“Hungry?”

“The sea stimulates my appetite.” She lowered her lashes. “Among other things.”

Steve grinned, settling on the blanket next to her. He took out a Hoodsie cup, too, and dug his spoon into the ice cream. 

“Why must this spoon be wooden?” Diana asked.

“I don’t know. It’s always been a trademark, though.”

Diana studied his profile. “Beloved.” He looked at her. “You do know that any time spent with you is well-spent?” At his puzzled smile, she continued, “I need not wild excitement at every moment. I also crave peace, as I knew at home.” She put her hand on his arm. “Whether our moments together are action-filled or sitting on a beach eating ice cream, I am truly happy.”

Steve’s smile rivaled the sun. They kissed, Diana whispering, “You always know what I need.”


	5. Narragansett, Neccos, And Fenway Franks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana and Steve enjoy lunch with an older couple who have memories of the New Frontier years.

_“Women had to wear gloves and a hat upon leaving the house. Yet they had been given the freedom of getting behind the wheel.”_

  


**Dr. Serina Hatch**  
**"The American Woman**  
**In Postwar America"**  
**2008 C.E.**

Diana was pleased at the comfort of her dark-blue ‘pedal-pusher’ shorts that ended just above the knees. Her short-sleeved pale blue shirt was light cotton, and she had pulled her blond wig into a perky ponytail. Her bracelets were covered by tennis wristbands, the soft cloth white with red and blue stars patterned around the wrists. Slightly-scuffed white sneakers completed her ensemble.

Steve was wearing a dark-green pair of shorts, longer than a modern version, and a light-green short-sleeved shirt. He wore sturdy sandals, comfortable for his feet. He put his glasses case in his shirt pocket, wearing his sunglasses. His wallet slipped into his pants pocket easily.

“Ready, Rosie?”

“Ready, Jack.”

Grinning, they held hands and started walking.

& & & & & &

Diana loved exploring the shops. She never ceased to be amazed at the prodigious amount of things manufactured in Man’s World. On Paradise Island, items were created for utilitarian use, and the objects created for beauty alone were lovingly-crafted, not mass-produced.

Still, ‘kitsch’, as Steve called it, was an indelible part of American culture. And there were clever gems among the plastic, Diana delighted at the necklaces made from seashells.

“How lovely.” She held up a string of classic fan-shaped shells, bleached white by the sun. 

“You really like it, love?”

“It is simple yet beautiful.”

“Then it’s yours.”

Delight lit up Diana’s face, and she sighed happily as Steve placed the jewelry around her neck after purchase.

“You spoil me, love.”

He laughed. “I’ve just begun.”

She kissed him, his eyes shining with happiness.

They continued browsing, Steve explaining old-fashioned items such as Slinkies and hula hoops and what he called ‘pop beads’: plastic beads for children, easy to pop together or pull apart. He laughed when he saw the board game, _Candy Land,_ and fondly recalled playing it with his sister.

“Wow, these toys bring back a lot of memories. They’re all still popular today, though the kids like video games better than board games.” His eyes lit up. “Hey, a propeller cap from _Beanie & Cecil!”_

_“Beanie & Cecil?”_

“Yeah, it was this really cool kids’ cartoon, but like _Rocky And Bullwinkle,_ could be enjoyed by adults, too. Very satirical.”

“So it was about two little boys?”

“Actually, it was about a little boy and his sea serpent.” He grinned at her raised eyebrow. “Darling, it’s postwar, Baby Boomer imagination. Don’t try to figure it out.” 

“Good advice.”

They browsed in another section of the gift shop, then headed for an antique store. The small shop was crammed with curious items, Steve explaining those objects that puzzled Diana, and she was drawn to a glass case filled with jewelry. A wink of gold caught her attention, and she examined the piece closely.

They spent another hour browsing, then Steve patted his stomach. “Hungry, darling?”

Diana nodded and they began looking for a place to eat.

A small restaurant by the harbor looked promising. They went inside, the place crammed with diners, and the harried hostess said, “A table out on the deck just opened up.”

“Perfect.” Steve put a hand on Diana’s lower back, indicating that she should go first.

The deck was filled with round, white tables and striped umbrellas of different colors, each table except one occupied. Diana and Steve were shown to a table in the corner of the deck, the hostess quickly setting down menus and bustling off.

“Pretty busy.” Steve opened the menu.

“Either the food or the prices are attracting them.”

“Maybe both.”

They gradually decided on their orders, looking at the view of the harbor and declaring it spectacular. They chatted about what they’d seen in the shops.

Fifteen minutes later Steve frowned. “They must really be backed up.”

“Yes.” Diana wished she could get a glass of water.

“Oh, my! Apologies, folks. Darned prices have everyone all excited.” A very young waitress suddenly appeared, hazel eyes bright as she poised pencil over pad.

“The haddock sandwich, please, and substitute rice for the French fries.” Diana closed the plastic menu. “And a glass of water with a slice of lemon.”

“What dressing would you like for your salad?”

“Russian.”

“Great.” The girl scribbled quickly, reminding Diana of the Flash. “And you, sir?”

“A lobster roll with onion rings on the side, Italian dressing on my salad, and I noticed you’re offering Narragansett beer?”

“We are.”

“I’d like some of that.”

“Good choice, sir.” 

“I know that they went out of business in ‘81 but started up again a few years ago. I’m glad you’ve got it on the menu.”

“We stocked up, sir. Plenty still left.”

“Great.”

The waitress took the menus and hurried away.

“Narragansett? That sounds like an Indian tribe,” said Diana.

“It is. They’re based in Rhode Island where the beer was brewed from Day One.”

“So it is a regional brew, like Hood is a local ice cream company.”

Steve nodded. “Like the State Line potato chips we had yesterday, or the Polar soda you saw in the stores.” Steve smiled. “My dad drank Narragansett beer all the time while listening to Red Sox games on the radio in the summer.”

Diana was pleased at her Beloved’s happy memories. “What are other New England things?”

“Oh, Necco wafers and brown bread that was cut round and sold that way, and the A&P supermarkets where you’d get green stamps for a certain purchase amount, then you could buy dishes or lawn furniture or anything, really, using the stamps.”

“And postwar culture was consumer-oriented?”

“Very.” Steve smiled as their waitress brought their drinks. “People went a little crazy. They wanted to spend. They’d gone through fifteen years of Depression, where there was no money, and the War, where there was money but nothing to spend it on.”

“Excuse me.” The hostess appeared at their table. “Would you be amenable to sharing your table? I apologize, but we’re so backed up…” 

Steve and Diana exchanged a look, then Diana said, “Certainly.”

The hostess brought over an elderly couple, Steve standing and shaking their hands, Diana doing so while seated.

“Don Kettering,” said the husband, holding the chair for his wife Lurene. His brown eyes sparkled as he said, “Quite a gimmick this town has. Lurene and I were delighted when we heard about it. Brings back a lot of memories.” His silky white hair was neatly combed, and he was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt, tan pants, and penny loafers.

Lurene’s white hair was stylishly-coiffed in period fashion, and her outfit was a light-green short-sleeved shirt and dark-green pedal pushers. Yellow straw sandals finished the ensemble.

“What a pretty bracelet,” Diana admired the glittery yellow jewelry.

“This is a genuine 1961 bracelet.” She winked. “Meaning I’ve had it since then.” Lurene put her napkin on her lap “So, how are you enjoying 1961?”

“I find it fascinating. So different.”

“That’s for certain.” Lurene smiled. “Take it from one who lived it, honey. You’ve got it better today…some of the time.”

Diana cocked her head. “That is an interesting statement. How so?”

“Well, the obvious pros column is our greater rights today. Back in ’61, a woman couldn’t obtain a loan or get one of those newfangled things called credit cards without her husband co-signing.”

Diana’s eyes widened. She knew of Man’s World inequality, but for even such little things?

“Occupations were pretty limited.”

“Ah, yes, the basics of teacher, nurse, or secretary.”

“Pretty much, though to be honest, women in power are pretty much torn down today. Back then women had no illusions about how far they could go. Now you get a glass ceiling.” Lurene adjusted her bracelet. “Still, we were better off than a lot of women in the world. Even when cars started to show up on the roads, there were more women drivers than you’d expect, and by 1961 just about every female was expected to drive, which gave us the freedom of the open road. Independence, too.”

Diana nodded. “I have noticed in old films that women drive even the largest cars.”

“Yep. Sometimes you’d get a scene in which a woman is driving and the man is the passenger. Usually it’s the other way around, but that simple little thing, driving, gave women in America at least some serious steps toward equality. Look at the societies today that don’t allow women to drive. It limits you, and makes you dependent on men for even the simplest trip to the market.” 

Steve and Don were discussing Cold War politics. The waitress appeared and the Ketterings ordered, falling back into conversation easily after she left. 

“So, Jack, what do you do?” Don asked.

“I’m a pilot for Northeast Airlines.”

“Hey, that’s great!”

“And you, sir?”

“I used to be a top executive at the Shredded Wheat company of Niagara Falls.”

“Oh, my dad loves Shredded Wheat.”

Don laughed. “It’s All-American fare, my friend.”

The waitress brought Don and Lurene’s drinks, Don clinking glasses with Steve. “Ah, Narragansett beer!”

“It couldn’t have been easy to work your way up.”

“Let me tell you, son…” 

“Lurene, why do you say times are better now…but not completely?” Diana asked.

Lurene drank her glass of beer. “We’ve got more independence now, but this is also a cruder time. It could be annoying to have to wear a hat and gloves when leaving the house, but you were treated like a lady. A gentleman wouldn’t dare use four-letter words in mixed company, for example. Society was far more civil then.”

“But was it worth the inequality?”

“No, but you always lose some of the good with the bad.”

Diana looked thoughtful. “I suppose that can be so.”

Lurene tilted her head. “I detect a faint accent. Are you native to America?”

“No.” Diana smiled. “I am originally from Greece.”

“Oh, how delightful! You must be living here now, though? Or just vacationing?”

Lurene glanced at Steve, who Diana knew looked like the All-American man.

“No, I live in America now.” Diana smiled again. “I am very happy.”

Lurene beamed. “Good. Always nice to see a young couple happy.”

“Very,” Diana said serenely.

Their meals arrived and the conversation turned back to Cold War politics, drawing the women in this time.

Don said, “People or our generation remember JFK for more than his womanizing. The younger generation, sad to say, has a cockeyed picture of the man. He was a philanderer, big time, but a smart guy. For all his shortcomings, he was the perfect man in the White House during the Cuban Missile Crisis, for starters.” 

“I agree,” Steve said. “There have been some Presidents since then that scare the crap out of me in the same situation.”

“You’re right.” Lurene speared a cherry tomato from her salad. “Restraint is necessary. Going off half-cocked is dangerous.”

“True, diplomacy is essential.” Diana added a tomato slice to her sandwich. “It is always better to talk first.”

Don waved his fork. “Exactly! All this shootin’ from the hip we’ve been getting lately is stupid. You need cool heads.”

“It is always easy to get into war. The trick is to try and avoid it as much as possible,” Diana said.

“Exactly again.” Don looked at Diana shrewdly. “Do you work in politics or the military, young lady?” 

Diana smiled. “I have been involved in both fields.”

“I knew it! See, Lurene, I can spot a person’s occupation a mile off.”

“Yes, dear,” Lurene said fondly.

Steve and Diana exchanged amused looks.

“Well, I can say Lurene and I were happy that Jack Kennedy was in office in those days. Why, the Berlin Wall went up during this year and could have sparked World War III!”

“Conservatives would say he should have pushed.” Steve took a bite of his lobster roll.

“Bah, they’re always cryin’ about something.”

Steve grinned and sipped his beer.

“Man, I miss this beer.” Don took a sip of his own. “When the _Red Sox_ were on the radio or TV, Narragansett beer was a sponsor. Ah, the lazy days of summer.” 

“Oh, yes.”

“Good ol’ Fenway Park and Fenway Franks and Hoodsie cups.”

Steve laughed. “They still play in the ol’ ballyard.”

“It’s a classic. They’ll be celebrating one hundred years in 2012.”

“Are you a baseball fan, dear?” Lurene asked Diana.

“Oh, I enjoy feats of athleticism, surely.”

Diana’s comment and too-innocent expression caused Steve to choke on his beer. 

Lurene grinned. She sipped her drink, then pointed to Diana’s necklace while Don pounded Steve’s back. “What a pretty string of shells, dear.”

“Thank you.” Diana looked down at her necklace. “I have but to admire it, and my husband obtains it for me.”

“Watch out there, Jack boy, otherwise you’ll give us other husbands a bad name,” Don winked.

Grinning, Steve said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hush, Don. Let Jack here take care of his wife.”

“Yes, dear.”

Steve and Diana laughed, the Ketterings smiling, too.

“You’re a better husband than JFK.” Lurene said.

“Thank you. Though I still admire him as a President.” Steve smiled at Lurene.

& & & & & &

Back at the cottage Diana said, “That was an interesting lunch. Lurene and Don are fine people.”

“Yeah, I enjoyed talking to them.” Steve was unbuttoning his shirt, getting ready to take a shower.

“They said there is a series of lectures at the college tonight about 1961.”

“Already got the tickets.”

Diana paused from putting the apples they had bought on the way home into a bowl. 

“What?!”

Steve stood in the bedroom doorway brandishing the tickets and a smile.

Diana dashed to him and pulled him into an embrace, Steve laughing.

Diana pulled back and looked into her lover’s eyes. “How do you always know what I need or want?’

“A gift, I suppose.” Steve gazed lovingly at his Beloved.

She kissed him.


	6. Pillbox Hats, Tieclips, And Capri Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana learns more about the women of 1961 when she and Steve attend a lecture series at the local college.

_“Our First Lady is someone for America to be proud of. She is the epitome of American womanhood, a woman of taste and grace who is also a wonderful wife and mother. All girls and women should strive to be like her.”_

**Betty O’Shea**  
**"America’s First Lady"**  
**_The Saturday Evening Post_**  
**1961 C.E.**

Diana looked at herself in the mirror: light-blue suit with white trim, white high-heeled shoes, gloves and handbag. She had coiffed her wig in a Jackie Kennedy style.

“I really should have a pillbox hat,” she sighed to her reflection.

“Of course, dear.”

Diana saw Steve standing behind her and whirled. He held out a hatbox.

“When did you…”

“While I went to get the newspaper.” He also held out a long, black velvet box.

“Darling, what…”

“Gifts for my beautiful bride.”

Diana opened the velvet box. “Pearls!”

“I thought they would go well with your suit.”

Diana hugged him. “And my pillbox hat?”

Steve nodded. “Here, let me put these on you.” He slipped the pearls around Diana’s neck, kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry they aren’t the Crown Jewels, Princess.”

“My love, these are more precious to me than the riches of Solomon’s mines.”

“Mmm, you sure know how to sweet-talk a guy.”

Diana laughed. She put on her white pillbox hat, Steve admiring the picture she presented.

“How do I look?” he asked.

Diana looked at the dark-blue suit and crisp white shirt, polished black shoes, and narrow dark-blue tie. His hair was slicked down, though Diana knew that wouldn’t last.

“Perfect, my darling.”

“Drat, I can’t find my tieclip. I was sure I packed it.”

Diana opened the nightstand drawer and took out a small white box.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Angel, what…?”

“The woman at the antique store said it is authentic, sold to her father by a member of the JFK circle.”

Steve lifted it out.” A PT-109 tieclip!”

“Yes, a special token of Jack Kennedy, the boat he commanded in World War II.” She took the clip from Steve and fixed it on his tie. She patted the tie against his chest. “The gold goes well as a color complement.”

“Thank you, Angel.”

“And thank you, my darling.”

They walked to the campus, Diana taking Steve’s arm. She was extremely proud of her escort.

It felt a little strange to be immersed in a world that was clearly sexist, but Steve was her anchor as always.

“I love you.”

Steve looked at her and smiled. “I love you, too.”

Diana felt very happy.

& & & & & &

There were three forty-five minute lectures with breaks of ten minutes between each one. The topics were _The Cold war Policies Of The Kennedy Administration: Response To The Berlin Wall; The Freedom Riders And Their Impact On The Civil Rights Movement,_ and _Women’s Fashion In 1961: The Jackie Kennedy Influence And The Reflection Of Female Status In America._

Diana listened avidly to the lectures, always eager to soak up new knowledge. She wanted to hear about this strange new world, including its history.

And to learn more about the world that had shaped the man she loved.

Professor Tom Macklin was saying, “Some would say that the response of the West to the Communists building the Berlin Wall in August of ’61 was too tepid. Yes?”

A middle-aged woman had raised her hand. “But what choice did we have? Nuclear weapons change everything, and if you keep them out of the picture, who wants a land war with the Soviets in Europe?”

“Precisely. Easy to play cowboy, but a true leader must weigh all alternatives.”

Diana murmured, “I agree.” Her mother had taught her so much about leadership, diplomacy, and warcraft.

Diana was pleased with the first lecture, and she said to Steve during the break, “Professor Macklin seems quite intuitive.”

“He’s pretty expert on the New Frontier. I think he’ll be graduating to a more prestigious position soon.”

“A pity that this small college will lose him.”

The next lecture was just as interesting. The Freedom Riders of 1961 had consisted of black and white volunteers riding their own buses through the segregated Deep South, encountering violence along the way.

Diana marveled at the courage of these ordinary citizens. Most were college students but older people had been part of the crusade, too.

The rank prejudice of Man’s World never ceased to amaze her, but this lecture showed how far America had come.

The final lecture was also of interest. As she and Steve sipped punch during the intermission between lectures, one of the male attendees said to his friend, “Man, those were the good ol’ days.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. The U.S. kicked ass and women knew their place.”

Steve winced and Diana looked around for the speaker: a young man, not old, and looking quite smug.

“Angel…”

Diana waved her hand. “It is of little consequence, my love. There are always those who love to revel in their ignorance.”

Relieved, Steve finished his punch. “Shall we take our seats?”

“We shall.”

Each lecture was presented by a different professor. Rory McCready was dressed smartly in a rose-pink suit and high heels. She wore pearls and her auburn hair was styled like Diana’s. Cats-eye glasses with tiny rhinestones sparkled as she moved.

“Well, I see a lot of you ladies came dressed Jackie-style. Excellent. She was a trendsetter in a time when all women were supposed to be concerned with fashion.”

A young woman’s hand went up. “But, Professor, isn’t that still true today?”

Rory nodded. “True, but at least you have the option of not caring today despite social pressure. Back then a girl had to care about fashion in self-defense.”

Lights darkened as slides began to click on-screen. “Jackie Kennedy was a style-setter due to her status as First Lady and her own exquisite taste. She never made a fashion _faux pas.”_ Several slides of Jackie appeared in various outfits. “Her pillbox hat became emblematic of the era. She preferred A-line dresses and enjoyed wearing Capri pants, popularized by the Laura Petrie character on _The Dick Van Dyke Show.”_ A slide of Jackie in a stunning white gown appeared next. She was being escorted by her husband. “Her Inaugural Ball gown was designed by Oleg Cassini, as was this one…” Another stunning gown showed on-screen “…worn by the First Lady on a diplomatic trip to Paris in the spring of ’61. As JFK said, he was the man who escorted her to Paris, President be ignored.”

The audience laughed.

“Professor McCready, wasn’t Jacqueline Kennedy a step back from Eleanor Roosevelt?” asked an elderly gentleman in horn-rimmed glasses.

“If you’re talking social causes, certainly, but the trend of going backwards had started with Bess Truman and Mamie Eisenhower. None of the First Ladies until Betty Ford began to be political activists again.”

“But, Professor, wasn’t Jackie an arts activist?” asked a middle-aged woman in a lavender pillbox hat.

“Of a sort. She was no radical activist, but her sense of the aesthetic and history inspired the renovation of the White House. She found and displayed authentic pieces with real history behind them, beautifying the Mansion after years of neglect in that area. Colonial reproduction for the masses became a long-lasting decoration scheme, and a respect for White House history was a benefit, too.”

“She had no ambitions beyond wife and mother,” said a teenage girl scornfully.

“A lot of women didn’t in those days.” Rory clicked the next slide. “However, the problem was that they had few choices. It saddens me that women are not allowed to choose those traditional roles today without contempt aimed at them. I thought we fought for the right to live our lives as we see fit?” 

A picture of Jackie with Caroline and John, Jr. brought smiles to people’s faces. The Kennedys were on the White House lawn, the young children playing and Jackie joining in. She was dressed casually in Capri pants and a sleeveless blouse.

“This image…” the next slide showed the three on the beach at Hyannisport, this time joined by Jack “…and this one symbolized the young postwar family: mother, father, two children, one boy, one girl. Young couples modeled themselves after the Kennedys. The characters of Rob and Laura Petrie, played by Mary Tyler Moore and Dick Van Dyke, even resembled the First Couple. Jackie was by all accounts a good mother, and mothers across America wanted to emulate her.”

“So she was more than an arbiter of fashion,” said the middle-aged woman.

“Most definitely. Jack may have inspired people politically, but Jackie inspired people, especially women, to be the best they could be. We may find it lacking, but it was quite exciting for the times.”

Diana raised her hand. Rory nodded to acknowledge her.

“Were women organizing for equal rights at all during this time?”

“Women were involved in the civil rights movement, and would later be very involved with the anti-war movement. By the beginning of the 1970s, the revival of the women’s movement had begun.”

Rory clicked a rapid series of slides. “However, while women were denied many rights we take for granted today, they also enjoyed far more rights than women of other cultures, particularly non-Western cultures.

“Interestingly, even with the jokes about ‘women drivers’, who had better records than men, by the way, American women were drivers almost from the beginning, and that gave them unprecedented freedom.” She clicked on another slide. “These women are dressed casually in Capri pants, head scarves more commonly called ‘kerchiefs’, and sunglasses. Women went on vacation together, or would drive and spell husbands and boyfriends on long trips, because it was traditional for the man to drive.

“American men were certainly sexist, but also have had a proclivity for respect of women. Most men liked the idea of women driving. As for women’s fashion, they certainly liked the showing of skin that certain other cultures would have disapproved of. As you can see, the pants showed some leg, and sleeveless blouses were common.”

Diana spoke up. “So casual dress and the act of driving helped women in this country forge ahead for equality?”

“It helped, yes.”

Steve leaned over and whispered, “When we go home, I’ll let you drive as long as you wear those Capri pants.” He laughed as she jabbed an elbow into his ribs.

After the lecture Steve asked, “Would you like to attend the dance at the country club?”

Diana’s eyes lit up. She loved to dance. “Yes!”

“We have to go home to make a change.”

“Yes, this frock is not suitable for dancing.”

Steve grinned at how completely Diana was ‘in character’.

& & & & & &

Back at the cottage they changed, Steve swapping his dark-blue suit for a light-blue one, and he wore a fresh white shirt, narrow pearl-gray tie, and the same shoes. He re-combed his hair and carefully affixed his PT 109 tieclip.

“Ready, darling.”

Steve looked up and nearly gasped. “Angel, you’re beautiful!”

Diana smiled and twirled, her pleated skirt fanning out, a hint of tulle underneath. Her white dress was sleeveless and strapless, and white elbow-length gloves hid her bracelets. She wore white pumps and her blond hair was still in the Jackie-style. Cecilia Trevor’s ruby brooch glittered and the pearl necklace shone with a delicate luster. Large, round white earrings completed her ensemble.

“Do you think I fit the part of a woman of 1961?”

“Yes, you do.” Steve’s eyes sparkled in appreciation.

Pleased, Diana danced over to Steve and kissed him. “Then let us be off to the dance!”

He smiled as she took his arm.

It promised to be an interesting evening.


	7. Old Cape Cod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dance at the country club winds up as _From Here To Eternity_ on the beach. ;)

  
_“If you're fond of sand dunes and salty air_  
_Quaint little villages here and there_  
_(You're sure)_  
_You're sure to fall in love with old Cape Cod_  
_(Cape Cod, that old Cape Cod)._

_If you like the taste of a lobster stew_  
_Served by a window with an ocean view_  
_(You're sure)_  
_You're sure to fall in love with old Cape Cod.”_  


  


**Patti Page**  
**"Old Cape Cod"**  
**1957 C.E.**

The dance was in full swing by the time Diana and Steve arrived. A band was playing with enthusiasm on the dais at the end of the room, the tunes of ’61 filling the ballroom.

Women in gaily-colored dresses whirled around on the dance floor in the arms of smiling partners.

A buffet was set up along one wall, and tables were arranged to ring one side of the dance floor. Steve laughed as he saw red, green, and yellow Jello jiggling on plates in bundt cake shapes. 

“Oh, Jello. A postwar staple!”

Diana giggled and asked, “Dance?”

“Of course!”

They danced to several tunes, and both laughed as Chubby Checker’s Twist song started up. Gyrations filled the dance floor, risqué for 1961 but Steve was enjoying every move Diana made.

Her Amazon blood loved the freeness of dance. She moved with sensuous allure, Steve hoping to keep up. At her satisfied expression, he figured he was doing all right.

_“Let’s twist again like we did last summer…”_

Bodies coming together, Steve and Diana smiled.

When _‘Let’s Twist Again’_ was over, a recording of Patti Page’s _‘Old Cape Cod’_ started:

_“If you're fond of sand dunes and salty air_  
Quaint little villages here and there  
(You're sure)You're sure to fall in love with old Cape Cod  
(Cape Cod, that old Cape Cod).”

They slow-danced and Steve murmured, “They’re cheating.”

_“If you like the taste of a lobster stew_  
Served by a window with an ocean view  
(You're sure)You're sure to fall in love with old Cape Cod.”  


“How so?”

“ _’Old Cape Cod’_ is a ‘50s tune but I guess they figured it was okay since we’re on the Cape.”

“It’s pretty.”

“Mmm.” Steve nuzzled Diana’s hair. “Old Cape Cod was pretty sleepy until the ‘60s. I think the publicity of the Kennedy White House in Hyannisport brought a lot more people down. It got incredibly crowded. A pity. Old Cape Cod was pretty nice.”

_“Winding roads that seem to beckon you_  
Miles of green beneath a sky of blue  
Church bells chimin' on a Sunday morn  
Remind you of the town where you were born.”

_”If you spend an evening you'll want to stay_  
Watching the moonlight on Cape Cod Bay  
You're sure to fall in love with old Cape Cod.”

After the dance they sampled the buffet, waving at the Ketterings on the dance floor, then returned for the next tune, which made them both smile:

_“It’s just like heaven being here with you.  
You’re like an angel too good to be true…”_

Steve’s heart agreed with every word as he gazed adoringly at Diana while they danced.

_“But after all, I love you, I do,  
Angel Baby, my Angel Baby.”_

_Oh, yes, so true,_ Steve thought.

He hugged Diana, who happily returned the hug, and as they parted, Diana’s shining eyes were beautiful to see, Steve leaning in for a sweet kiss.

& & & & & &

Two hours later they left the club, walking the beach while carrying their shoes and joining an impromptu sing-along around a campfire, laughing and joking with people dressed for the beach or refugees from the dance, too. Steve loved the way the firelight illuminated his Angel’s face.

A little later they visited their private beach, the moonlight silvering the water. Diana gazed out at the sea, then let go of Steve’s hand and pulled off her wig.

“Angel?” 

She stripped off her gloves and wiggled out of her dress after kicking off her shoes. She placed her necklace on top of the folded-up dress, brooch still attached, and placed it and her purse and earrings on a flat rock. Pulling down her lace panties, she dangled them from one hand.

“Midnight swim?” she asked huskily.

She threw the panties at Steve and dashed off toward the sea.

He deftly caught the panties, laid them on the rock, and did a quick job of stripping, careful to place his tieclip with Diana’s necklace and his mother’s brooch, and ran off to join his sea-foamed Angel.

They played like dolphins, splashing and grabbing at each other as they laughed in the moonlight.

Steve gasped Diana’s shoulders. “You’re so beautiful, Angel,” he whispered, the moonlight shimmering in the water around them.

“My darling.” She brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

They kissed, love flowing between them as freely as the sea. When they parted, they swam in unison, synchronized swimmers with eyes only for each other.

When they emerged from the sea, hand-in-hand, they stopped on the wet stretch of sand, falling to their knees, clutching each other as they kissed passionately, Steve running his fingers through long, dark, hair. He nuzzled her neck, his other hand rubbing over her breast.

Diana’s hand stroked his hip and thigh and he shivered, cock twitching. Her eyes were shining bright, a happy smile curving her lips. 

“Beloved,” she whispered, drawing him down to her.

They fell to the sand, waves washing over them…

& & & & & & &

The two of them giggled like teenagers, carrying their clothes, too wet and sandy to put them back on. Stealing through the back roads, they hurried to the cottage, grinning at their daring.

They safely made it back to the cottage without encountering anyone, and quickly took a shower.

As Steve buttoned his pajama shirt, he glanced over at Diana as she brushed her hair. He smiled at their matching pajamas.

“At least we don’t have to sleep in separate beds, eh, love?”

She grinned. “I would feel bereft, my darling.”

“I love you.”

Diana beamed. “Oh, my Beloved, my hearts spills over with love for you.”

Steve embraced her, holding her close as her arms went around him.

“I’ll always love you, Angel. _Always_.”

He kissed the top of her head, her hand rubbing his back.

When they broke apart, Steve’s eyes sparkled. “Want some ice cream?”

Diana bounced up and down. “Strawberry?”

He laughed. “Yes, strawberry.”

They sat on the couch eating bowls of strawberry ice cream, watching more classic _Twilight Zone_ , laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Two very relaxed people went to bed, looking forward to another day of sun, sand and sea.


	8. Lazy Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a leisurely breakfast to fun on the beach, it’s a lazy Sunday for Steve and Diana.

  
_"Winding roads that seem to beckon you_  
_Miles of green beneath a sky of blue_  
_Church bells chimin' on a Sunday morn_  
_Remind you of the town where you were born._

_If you spend an evening you'll want to stay_  
_Watching the moonlight on Cape Cod Bay_  
_You're sure to fall in love with old Cape Cod."_  


  


**Patti Page**  
**"Old Cape Cod"**  
**1957 C.E.**

The lovers awoke later the next morning, planning a leisurely breakfast. They dressed casually in sleeveless cotton shirts, Diana wearing pedal pushers and a kerchief on her head, Steve wearing baggy shorts the length of her pants, and both wearing sunglasses.

They walked hand-in-hand to the local coffee shop, enjoying the ocean view, a church’s bell pealing clear and bright on a beautiful morning. 

The small coffee shop was busy this Sunday morning, the clink of silverware and rattle of china plates and cups from the kitchen competing with conversation.

Steve held out the newspaper he had picked up at the entrance.

“Vintage _Daily Planet_.”

Diana took the Op Ed section. “Hmm, they are not happy with an editorial in _The Birmingham News_ that is skewering the Attorney General.”

“Bet JFK loved seeing his brother sliced up.”

“Birmingham is where those three little girls were killed in the church bombing?”

Steve nodded. “It happened in ’63.” He shook his head. “I can’t fathom such hatred.”

Diana reached out and squeezed his hand. “May you never understand, my darling.”

They spoke of less-weighty articles and when breakfast was delivered, they were ready to eat.

Diana poured syrup over her pancakes, enjoying maple sausages and toast. Steve ate eggs, sausage and toast, stealing a piece of pancake from Diana’s plate. She smiled, drinking her orange juice.

Diana was feeling well-rested. The weekend was restoring her vitality through the quiet pace and intellectual stimulation.

Steve was the perfect companion: calm, considerate, and damned sexy.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, love. Just happy.”

Steve smiled. “Good.”

Diana glanced at the paper. “Jack, what is a drive-in?”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Well, Rosie, m’dear, it’s a grand postwar tradition of taking your car and watching a giant outdoor screen while eating hot dogs, hamburgers, French fries…you know, healthy stuff.” He winked.

Diana laughed. “I would like to sample this American tradition.”

“Great! I haven’t been to a drive-in in years.” Steve finished his coffee. “You’ll love it, sweetheart. It’s fun and informal.”

“Ah.” Her eyes twinkled. “Very American.”

Steve laughed. “Correct, darling.”

After breakfast they returned to the cottage and changed for the beach, packing a lunch of tomato-and-lettuce sandwiches, peaches, and Coke bottles.

The day was another brilliant one, sunny and warm but not uncomfortably so. Diana and Steve exercised daily, and used swimming as their method of exercise on this weekend.

Diana gloried in the day. It reminded her very much of Paradise Island: bright, glittering, and peaceful.

When they came out of the water to eat lunch, Diana smiled at Steve.

“You’re happy, love,” he said.

“I am.”

Diamonds sparkled in gold as he brushed back a stray lock of hair. “I’m glad.”

Diana ate her sandwich, enjoying the crisp lettuce and richly-flavored garden tomatoes, the sharp tang of mustard adding a bite.

“I feel…buoyed by happiness.”

Steve’s smile was brilliant. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, Angel.”

She tossed her hair. “You are sweet and deserving of the same, my love.”

Steve reached out and grasped Diana’s hand and kissed it.

& & & & & &

When they finished lunch, they took turns applying suntan lotion to each other. Steve happily rubbed it on Diana’s shoulders, back, and thighs, then submitted to Diana’s touch.

“You’re so fair,” she murmured as her hand kneaded his shoulders.

Steve pillowed his head on his crossed arms. “Mmm, blame my Celtic and English blood.”

“You must be careful, my darling.”

Steve’s eyes were closed, a small smile curving his lips. “Always, love.”

She tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Be serious.”

“I am.” He rolled onto his side. “I’m not a martyr, darling. I like to be free of skin cancer.”

“Good.” Diana gently rolled him back onto his stomach. Her hand ran down his back. “You are most precious to me.”

Steve swallowed. “I can say the same, Angel.”

She kissed the small of his back.

Diana settled onto her blanket and let the sound of the waves lull her to sleep…

& & & & & &

_She was sitting on the beach, watching the turquoise waves lap at the shore. Palm trees bent in the wind, the white sand glittering in the bright sun. Endless blue skies reached out to the horizon, a typical scene viewed from Paradise Island._

_Diana pulled her knees up, hugging them as she watched the azure skies. She felt a little restless, but that was not unusual. She had always felt at least slightly restless, even on this island of serenity._

_Shading her eyes, she scanned the skies. What was that droning noise?_

_There! A plane in the sky!_

_She stood, watching as it drew closer. A contrail of black smoke trailed out behind it as it began to dive into the sea._

_Diana gasped, wondering if the pilot would survive. She dove into the ocean, swimming with powerful strokes as she aimed for the plane._

_She swam around the wreckage, searching for survivors. There! Sunlight glinted off sun-bright hair and she swam closer._

_A man!_

_Fascinated to see her first man in the flesh, she reached out and touched his shoulder._

_He lifted his head from the silver wing and his sapphire eyes looked straight into her soul._

_“An Angel…a beautiful Angel,” he murmured._

_She knew she had found the other half of her soul._

& & & & & &

“Angel.”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

Diana squinted, seeing Steve’s concerned face.

“I am fine, Beloved. Why?”

He reached over and pushed a curl back from her face.

“You were mumbling.”

“Ah. Just a dream, my love.”

Satisfied with her explanation, Steve put his head back down on his arms.

Diana lightly touched his hair.

From tragedy had come her greatest joy.

Highly content, she went back to soaking up the sun.


	9. Dancing Hot Dogs Cut The Mustard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happy couple enjoy an evening at the drive-in.

_"Leave it to Americans to dream up watching movies from a car.”_

  


**Professor Harlan MacGregor**   
**"The Automobile**   
**And American Culture"**   
**1961 C.E.**

Steve watched appreciatively as Diana wiggled into a pair of tangerine-colored Capri pants.

“As tight as your uniform pants?” he teased.

Diana snorted. “I would like to see _you_ get into these pants.”

“As long as _you’re_ still in them, I’d love to get into your pants, love.” 

Diana threw him a dirty look and Steve laughed.

He finished pulling on his jeans and snapped them closed. Diana huffed and put on a matching short-sleeved blouse, starting to button it.

“Allow me.”

Steve buttoned the long line of buttons from bottom-to-top. He gently kissed her bare skin just above her bra, then fastened that button.

Diana’s little hiss of breath accompanied her hand on the back of his head. He smiled as he kissed the next expanse of skin, buttoning her shirt, then kissed the hollow of her throat.

“Beloved,” Diana gasped, “If you continue this, we will miss the coming attractions.”

“Maybe this _is_ the coming attraction.” He winked.

Diana smirked and he slipped away to put on his shirt.

They both wore sneakers, and Diana wound a kerchief around her blond wig, putting on sunglasses. Steve put on his sunglasses, too, and slipped on his watch.

“Ready, Rose?”

“Ready, Jack.”

They drove a ’57 dark-blue Chevy Bel Air, Steve ecstatic at finally being able to drive his classic car. The top was down and the wind blew through their hair, both of them grinning.

At the drive-in, Steve put the top up as the clouds looked dark, and affixed an ancient speaker to the side of his window.

“Better test it. Inevitably, someone gets a dud.”

The speaker worked fine, if a little crackly, and Steve asked, “Want something to eat?”

Diana nodded, so they got out of the car and walked past the swings where children were playing, some in pajamas, and headed to the snack shack.

Inside, it was already busy, people standing in line as they chatted, excited about the final big event of the weekend.

“So, what’s your desire, love?” Steve asked.

“You mean besides yourself, my darling?”

He grinned. “So I’m on the menu?”

“You are the appetizer, main course, and dessert.”

Laughing, Steve studied the menu. “Sorry, no salads, dear. This menu is totally 1961.”

“I will survive.”

“Let’s hope.”

They ordered hot dogs, hamburgers, and French fires. They opted for Pepsi for a change-of-pace, and after using squeeze bottles of mustard and ketchup and dishing out relish from a jar onto their food, they went back to the car. 

Dusk was falling, and the coming attractions were playing. They slipped off their dark glasses and watched vintage ’61 trailers, Diana fascinated by Hollywood’s ‘hard sell’.

“All the women are so beautiful.”

“None hold a candle to you, m’rose.”

Diana grinned. “Such a flatterer, my husband.”

A little thrill went through Steve. He liked the sound of that!

“The men are pretty good-looking, too.” Steve dipped a French fry in a paper cup of ketchup.

“Ah, but you outshine them all.”

“Thank you, my wife.”

Diana looked very happy and bit into the firm, juicy hot dog.

Steve hastily turned his attention to the screen as stars began to twinkle in a sky rapidly turning deep purple, the herald for night’s darkness.

Jimmy Cagney machine-gunned rapid-fire jokes as the story spun out, Diana fascinated by the old-fashioned clothes and cars. **One, Two, Three** was a classic Cold War tale that spoofed the American/Russian rivalry. Filmed in West Berlin just months before the Communists built the Wall, it jabbed at both sides in glorious black-and-white.

Diana loved the frenetic pacing. Steve remembered seeing the movie on AMC years ago. It was just as funny now.

Intermission arrived and Steve grinned. “More goodies, Rosie?”

Smiling, Diana answered, “Candy.”

They walked hand-in-hand to the snack shack while dancing hot dogs, French fry boxes and drink cups sang on-screen telling people to get their snacks.

Diana happily chose Jujubes, Good ‘N’ Plentys, Raisinets and popcorn.

“I will have to step up my exercise regimen when we get back to our regular lives.”

Steve whispered in her ear, “I know an exercise regimen that burns off plenty of calories.”

Diana giggled and ate a Raisinet.

Back at the car Steve asked, “Having a good time, Angel?”

“A wonderful time! This is a marvelous weekend, my love. And are you having a good time?”

“Very much. Mom and Dad took my sister and me to the drive-in lots of times. We thought it was the coolest thing!” 

“You and your family are very close.”

“Very.” Steve smiled. “I’ve been very lucky.” He closed his hand around Diana’s. “In all ways.”

They settled back to watch the movie as it flickered back on after the animated food and drink danced off the screen.

Diana watched the screen avidly as she ate her Raisinets. Steve smiled fondly. Once his Angel threw herself into something, she went all the way.

He was sorry to see the weekend end. Tomorrow they would head back to Boston and it would be back to work. The stress of their crazy lives would begin again, and they would snatch time together when they could.

_We need more weekends away. Even if it’s not 1961._

Steve put the tub of popcorn between them and kept his attention on the screen, always aware of the presence beside him.

He wistfully thought of the terms ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ that they’d used this weekend. He liked their use and wouldn’t mind the terms applying to them for real someday.

Diana said they were destined to be together. He believed it from the first moment he’d laid eyes upon her.

They could have met a hundred years ago, or in 1961.

It wouldn’t matter.

He reached over and took Diana’s hand, receiving a smile in return.

They were Destined to be together.


End file.
